In the arena, a mountain-tall, burly warrior swung his giant sword, hacking his opponent—weapon and all—clean in two.
The warrior plunged his giant sword into the loser's corpse, and a bizarre scene unfolded: the defeated fighter's blood trickled along the pine needle patterns etched into the giant sword, seeping drop by drop into the blade itself. Meanwhile, the body withered and shriveled up, like a tender shoot drained dry by aphids.
"Schroeve Dahlsen has claimed his fifteenth straight win! He's charging full speed ahead on the path to Warrior Captain! The enemies he's killed now tally up to eleven! If his opponents in those last few matches hadn't forfeited, that death count would have a few more names on it for sure!"
The announcer bellowed the match results at the top of his lungs, his high-pitched voice echoing off the arena's four walls. But no crowd answered with thunderous cheers, and no shouts of excitement rose for the victor.
The spectator seats ringing the arena walls were completely empty, save for two slim figures at the very top level—the only two watchers. They'd rented out the entire arena, yet they stood way up high, gazing down on the fight below like lone eagles surveying ants.
With no crowd to echo him back, the fired-up announcer probably lost his spark. He droned out the next match in a flat tone:
"Next up is Schroeve versus orichalcum-level adventurer Anderson Rupert. Um... ah, breaking news—Anderson forfeits and bows out of the duel. What a shame. So, let's give an early congrats to Schroeve Dahlsen on his sixteenth straight win!"
"Turns out even adventurers fear death." Up in the arena's highest seats, one of the only two spectators muttered to himself. He was a bit pudgy, but his clothes were lavish, radiating a royal vibe. The grisly sight of mangled corpses down in the arena left his round face looking a little uneasy.
"Your Highness, anything that's alive fears death—even those dirt-low adventurers are no exception." Odys Malcon Waverly stood beside the second prince Zanac, his tone flat.
The two of them were at the highest point of the arena, overlooking the mortal world below with a calm and detached air.
From afar, you could see several richly dressed corpses hanging from the top of the clock tower in the west district. Their hair was a mess, nooses tied tight around their necks, swinging in the wind like puppets strung by the throat.
Those were nobles the Re-Estize had hanged in recent days, charged with murdering the princess, treason, conspiracy, and corruption. After the executioners took their bodies down from the gallows, by the king's order, they hung them on the clock tower to warn the nobles lurking and scheming in the shadows.
"My sister's moves are quicker than we expected." Zanac gazed at those dangling bodies on the clock tower, a trace of worry in his voice.
"The culprits Princess Renner caught are just a few disposable pawns we tossed out." Odys's gaze was calm and inscrutable, "She does have smarts way beyond her age, but in front of us old timers, it's still not cutting it."
"Yes, General." Zanac said humbly, "It's thanks to your guidance that the crown stays secure. Sigh, I never imagined things would spiral like this. Back when we were kids, my sister and I were as close as... well, as friends. Ever since our brother died in battle, everything changed."
"Don't go soft-hearted—watch out, or your sister will snatch everything from you, including your power, your wealth, even your life." Odys said, "Turn your eyes away from the clock tower and look down at the arena below."
Zanac immediately turned his head at those words, gazing down at the scene in the arena. In the center of the sandy ground, a warrior gripped a massive scythe and gutted his opponent wide open, intestines spilling all over the place in a gruesome mess.
"The reason I brought you here is to teach you a lesson. We're the ones standing on high ground—the brutal slaughter down below, with blood and guts flying everywhere, doesn't concern us. We just need to glance down to grasp the whole picture. You're destined to stand at the very top, higher than any of us, so you must cultivate that big-picture mindset."
"Mm, I'll definitely keep your teachings in mind, General!" Zanac said. "But some ants, if you ignore them, can still cause trouble. I've got intel that the Adventurer's Guild is meddling in the Warrior Captain selection, throwing major roadblocks our way."
"You're right—some ants don't know when to quit, thinking they can snag scraps from between the teeth while two massive beasts duke it out. I've already set plans to squash this nosy ant, to make an example for the rest."
"Thanks for handling it, General," Zanac said. "My sister also hired an orichalcum-level adventurer named EeDechi—she seems to be playing bodyguard for her, and she's a real pain in the neck."
Odys said flatly, "Your Highness, you need to understand something. A person standing on the mountaintop just needs to toss down a pebble to shatter the skull of a rebel at the base. When the tide turns, we can crush the worms crawling on the ground with a flick of our finger. The only thing you'll have to worry about then is how gross the bug's corpse is, and whether it'll dirty your hand."
"You're right to school me, General," Zanac nodded.
"When you're standing on that mountaintop, there's only one thing to watch out for." Odys's indifferent tone suddenly shifted to reverence as he raised his hand and pointed to the sky. "Higher than the mountain is the heavens."
"The heavens?" Second Prince Zanac looked up, gazing at the sky. It was blanketed in thick, gray clouds, with no trace of sunlight... oppressive and gloomy.
"You mean," Zanac's eyes widened, the clouds reflecting in his pupils like they were shifting into brilliant colors, "the Sorcerer Kingdom is the 'heavens'!"
"Exactly like that," Odys smiled, "No matter how tall the mountain peak, the heavens are always above the mountain. We must revere the heavens, praise the heavens, and only then can we earn the heavens's blessings upon us."
...
EeDechi lounged in a recliner, flipping through an ancient parchment book out of sheer boredom. It was an old tome she'd snagged from the black market, recording myths and legends that circulated five hundred years ago, written in Draconic, Elvish, and Common.
The merchant had sworn up and down that the book was a legendary mage's notebook, and he'd charged her 10 gold coins for it. But after she brought it back, Barrett took one look and said it was only worth 5 silver coins. EeDechi had a nagging feeling she'd been ripped off by that grocery store owner with a Justice Value of 45, but since she'd already bought it, she figured she might as well give it a read.
Barrett was off to the side polishing his throwing axes, checking if the handles were sturdy and if the enchantments had faded. Sean had taken apart the components of a crossbow, using cotton balls to apply tung oil for upkeep. Stella was reading a prayer book tied to the Gaia faith, sunlight filtering through the glass window onto her white cotton robe, making her look pure and peaceful.
The captain wasn't stirring up any trouble—this was a rare stretch of downtime.
Knock, knock, knock. Someone rapped lightly on the door. Barrett went to open it, and the visitors were Adventurer's Guild guildmaster Tony Ulea, along with his nephew Eddie Hill.
"I'm here to return the book," Old Tony said as he hung his velvet hat and gray wool coat on the rack. "Brought my nephew along to broaden his horizons a bit."
He handed over the hefty The Mystery of Magic, plus a small booklet clipped with a few dark yellow papyrus sheets, to EeDechi. "This is a set of annotations penned by yours truly, a professional wizard, and a few maps of the Eight Greed Kings' desert—all yours now."
Barrett asked, puzzled, "Broaden his horizons in what?"
"To see someone with exceptional magical talent—to make him realize how far he's got to go." Old Tony beckoned his nephew Eddie over to his side, while saying to EeDechi, "Adventurer captain, mind if I borrow a bit of your time?"
The boy with light brown hair watched them curiously. EeDechi walked over and asked, "How do you want to see it? You want me to cast a 5th Tier spell?"
"No, no—blowing the house to kingdom come isn't the plan. I've got a better idea. Could you stick out your left hand? Fingers spread flat."
EeDechi did as he asked, extending her hand and holding it out in front of Old Tony. Old Tony gently took her palm and suddenly chanted a string of incantations.
Crack!
A bright electric serpent shot out from the top of EeDechi's head, like lightning shattering the darkness. The serpent blasted toward the ceiling, blowing right through it.
Wood chips and brick dust scattered everywhere, a big hole gaping in the roof, letting in a shaft of sunlight. Everyone caught the sharp smell of high voltage scorching the air.
"See that?" Old Tony said to his nephew. "What I just chanted was only a 1st Tier Shock Spell, but amplified through her body, its power matches a 3rd Tier Thunder Serpent. Her affinity for magic is even stronger than dragon heartstring! Only someone with talent like that can become an orichalcum-level adventurer. If you don't buckle down, how do you expect to become a high-tier mage someday?"
EeDechi snapped out of it—turns out Old Tony had been using her like a wand!
She was about to say something when she spotted Barrett and Sean covering their mouths, looking like they were fighting back laughter. Eddie, getting an earful from Old Tony, was sneaking glances at her too, his eyes darting away while his mouth quirked up at the corners.
Stella pressed her lips together and handed over a mirror.
EeDechi glanced at her reflection—every strand of her black hair was pushing away from the others, standing straight up like an exploded mess, or a black porcupine with all its spines bristling. It was the static from the electricity.
Anger flared across EeDechi's face. She swung her fist at Old Tony, looking ready to deck him, her mind torn between not beating up an old guy and giving the prankster codger a piece of her mind.
Old Tony got spooked by her fierce glare and waved his hands frantically. "Don't get mad, don't get mad! These creaky old bones couldn't handle a couple punches from you—relax, your hair'll settle down in a minute."
He quickly switched topics, shuffling a few steps toward Barrett. "Barrett, I came by this time because there's something else I need to run by you."